Mishthi Music

We are an online mixtape for Brown-ish music. We sometimes also actually make mixtapes - see BeatsForBangladesh.org for our latest creation.

The Writers

Listen Up Jay-Z……Mu(sick) by Spoken Word rock-star Madiha Bhatti

From UNC- Siren:

Mu(Sick) Lyrics:
by Madiha Bhatti

So I heard this song the other day
That objectified women in every way
That doesn’t narrow it down much
But it was pretty depraved
The feminists are probably still rolling in their graves
It reduced people to parts, objects to be acquired
Turned hearts and minds into mere things to be desired
And as parts of my body were assessed and sized
I thought,”What a way to be dehumanized,”
These artists seem to be playing a game
Of how many times they call us the wrong name
Cuz I’m not a dime, those come a dozen
No I’m really not interested in all your lovin
I’m not your shawty, hoe, or trick
Your baby, lady, girl or chick
I mean can someone explain to me
How this counts as music? When you
Chant, you pant about windows and walls
Talk about a woman like she’s a thing to be mauled
Oh she got a big booty so you call her Big Booty,
If she had a big brain would you call her at all?
But it seems like I’m the only one appalled
That music can make me feel so small

You may think they’re just words
That doesn’t give them immunity
Words start wars and break spirits
They’re still used with impunity
Just imagine a young girl, smart , funny, well rounded
Walks into a club and finds herself surrounded
By men acting like they’ve got something to collect
They’re just listening to the words
That tell them she’s just an object
And her objections catch in her throat
As she gets harassed unchecked
Treated with disrespect
She’s caught in the middle
And the lady doth protest too little
A few words have made her think she’s brittle
Do you see where I’m going?
It’s not exactly a riddle

(Chorus)
I’m saying
Can we turn up the volume, but turn down the noise
Stop polluting the minds of our men and our boys
With all the rude misogyny and bland homogeny
Of rhymes and beats so crude and obsolete
Cuz our ears are bleeding from all these cowards
The time is ours, We are ready to devour
lyrics that make us feel empowered

Yeah I watched a video the other day
Of my girl, Beyonce
She was draped in feathers and furs and things
Exaggerated makeup and big chunky rings
She was dancing in the desert, hair whipping wild
And I thought to myself
What does this look like to a child?
To see a woman belt about her power
While thrusting her hips to and fro
How will she know she can wear the pants in the house
When her idol doesn’t wear them in a video?
I mean on so many levels it makes me go ballistic
That we’ve consented to be portrayed as animalistic
Cuz one hand you’re exotic, you’re fierce, do no wrong,
On the other you’re a female dog in every song
I don’t want to be serenaded by my individual parts
Unless you can look past the flesh and talk about hearts
I mean does anyone even know that Beyonce’s smart?
Cuz “If she was a boy,” even just for a day
She wouldn’t have to crawl on all fours just to crawl up the charts
Or shed those fine furs
To grace a few album covers
Does her husband have that problem?
Apparently he’s got 99 others

And it sounds dramatic; maybe my skin should be tougher
But consider the history of women of color
Not valued as wives, or sisters or mothers
But used by men as unwilling lovers
When you think of the slaves who were used like instruments
You realize that society is progressing by mere increments
Just imagine the bodies covered in raw welts
And tell me it’s okay when black women are dressed in animal pelts
All those women who paid with their bodies to survive
200 years later are portrayed as sex-crazed and deprived
Please forgive me if I think music needs to be revived

(Chorus)
I mean
Can we turn up the volume, but turn down the noise
Stop polluting the minds of our men and our boys
With all the rude misogyny and bland homogeny
Of rhymes and beats so crude and obsolete
Cuz our ears are bleeding from all these cowards
The time is ours, We are ready to devour
Lyrics that make us feel empowered

So I heard a song that caused me pain
The words were bordering inhumane
Cuz I’m not accustomed to boys yelling at me
Never had to face boys telling me to
Smack that, shake that, beat that up
These aren’t the ideas of love with which I grew up
Maybe the whole concept is new to me
But then he started whispering what he’d do to me
In a place where no one else could see
Without even asking if I’d agree
And I really had to strain to hear
The words came fast and disappeared
They were drowned out by good music, I’m not gonna lie
Cuz good beats are the noise behind which singers hide
As they beat a woman up inside
It’s easy to do once we’ve been demonized
And the devil’s greatest aid is my greatest frustration
It’s the most common appellation
To sweep the nation
Rhymes with witch
I’ll leave it to your imagination
And you may think there’s no correlation

But when a man loves a woman who won’t love him back
What if his first instinct is to attack
He’s got lyrics and blood pounding in his ears
And a helpless women faces her worst fears
She’s smacked, shaken, beaten, torn apart
Against all odds his bites as bad as his bark
He causes the kind of pain that leaves a mark
And before he leaves he turns to say his parting word
It’s on the tip of his tongue, comes out unslurred
Might have been left unsaid if it had been left unheard
But its been programmed he doesn’t twich
As his mouth fills with venom and he spits out
Bitch

What can she do, to ease her strife?
Every song on the radio is the soundtrack to her life

So can we turn up the volume, but turn down the noise
Stop polluting the minds of our men and our boys
With all the rude misogyny and bland homogeny
Of rhymes and beats so crude and obsolete
Cuz our ears are bleeding from all these cowards
The time is ours, We are ready to devour
Lyrics that make us feel empowered
I know it’s a steep mountain to climb,
It might take a while, but until that time
I think I’d rather just spit my own rhymes

Madiha Bhatti is an English and Biology double major minoring in Women’s and Gender Studies. She hopes it will prepare her for a career in medicine, with a focus in women’s health (the English major is so she can write eloquent prescriptions.) If she had free time she would spend it reading Game of Thrones, backpacking, and crossing off some of the items on her 20 page bucket list.

mutinousmindstate:

PUZZL3PEACE is the alias of Los Angeles born artist and visionary leader Jusdeep Singh Sethi. Jusdeep was an avid believer in all things analog, utilizing his 35mm film photography as a primary medium of expression and connection with nature and his ever-changing social and spiritual environment. 
 On August 16, 2014 the Los Angeles community will celebrate the life and artistic work of this young man during the 1st Annual Puzzl3Peace Photo and Art Exhibition. The exhibit will feature never before seen photos by Puzzl3Peace, as well as spaces created to express and share Jusdeep’s natural sense of healing and effortless vibration of love energy.  Featuring: 35mm Film Photography by Puzzl3Peace Artwork from “Jusdeep’s Village” Live Musical Performances  August 16, 2014 William Grant Still ArtsCenter 2520 West View St.  Los Angel3s, CA 90016
https://www.facebook.com/events/728054410593226/
Image by Kalishkari circa 2014
  High-res

mutinousmindstate:

PUZZL3PEACE is the alias of Los Angeles born artist and visionary leader Jusdeep Singh Sethi. Jusdeep was an avid believer in all things analog, utilizing his 35mm film photography as a primary medium of expression and connection with nature and his ever-changing social and spiritual environment.


On August 16, 2014 the Los Angeles community will celebrate the life and artistic work of this young man during the 1st Annual Puzzl3Peace Photo and Art Exhibition. The exhibit will feature never before seen photos by Puzzl3Peace, as well as spaces created to express and share Jusdeep’s natural sense of healing and effortless vibration of love energy.

Featuring:
35mm Film Photography by Puzzl3Peace
Artwork from “Jusdeep’s Village”
Live Musical Performances

August 16, 2014
William Grant Still ArtsCenter
2520 West View St.
Los Angel3s, CA 90016

https://www.facebook.com/events/728054410593226/

Image by Kalishkari circa 2014

The multi- talented LA-based Neelamjit Dhillon shares his  musical reflection, Wisconsin,  on the mass shooting at the Oak Creek gurdwara. Two years ago today.

Punjab Singh, one of men shot that day, remains in the hospital unable to move or speak.  RIP  - Paramjit Kaur, 41, Satwant Singh Kaleka, 65, Prakash Singh, 39, Sita Singh, 41; Ranjit Singh, 49; and Suveg Singh, 84.‪#‎RememberOakCreek‬

"All I want to do is shake my turban." - Peter Singh

Check out this short documentary about a Sikh Elvis impersonator in England called, ” Rocking With a Sikh” and produced in 1986.

And after you are done watching that - read this 1990 NYT article:

Peter Singh, an Indian whose Sikh religion requires him to wear a turban, recalled how Elvis Presley came to him in a dream in 1980 to say, ”You’re the next one.”

”Elvis said I would entertain millions of people,” the 43-year-old Mr. Singh said with a Welsh lilt before a recent performance at a community center in West London, ”and that I would be wearing a white suit. Three weeks later, I had the white suit. Now I’m the rocking Sikh. I don’t smoke dope. I don’t drink bourbon. All I want to do is shake my turban.”

War of the Words: Rap Battles in Nepal

My instinct within the first ten seconds of listening to this track was to hate it. The song title "Wigidi Wac" was so problematic and the video couldn’t be more cliched. But one minute into it, I was like heroin addict fiending for more. I loved the how the production samples heavily from 90s throwbacks. I love how parts of the video are filmed on the streets of Pakistan. I love Adil Omar’s deadpan flow.


I checked out the TMVSC (short for "The Miami Vice Sound Crack" and hailing from LA) album over at bandcamp - the WAC TAPE - and I absolutely love how 90s it all sounds with the fantastic samples and that new millennial twist. And, of course, an ill flow from all the folks rapping on this.